


Supernatural: Season Sixteen

by C E Hammock (ceh3167)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels and Demons, Canon Compliant, Fix-It, Heaven and Hell, Hunters in the bunker, Jack - Freeform, M/M, Nephilim, Post-Canon, Post-Season 15, Queen of Hell, Season Sixteen, Series Finale, Vampires and werewolfs, Witches and Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28127136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceh3167/pseuds/C%20E%20Hammock
Summary: The Supernatural story of Sam and Dean Winchester continues into season sixteen after their defeat God/Chuck and wining their free will. Sam and Dean work to rescue Castiel from the Empty, and Dean struggles with coming to terms with his feelings for Cas, and his looming foretold Death on a spike in an abandoned barn.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. The Premonition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amara sends Dean a premonition of his own death.
> 
> I am posting these chapters to both Archive of Our Own and also to my personal web page. You can visit my Supernatural: Season Sixteen page with links to each charter/episode as I post them at 
> 
> https://ceh3167.wordpress.com/my-stories/supernatural-season-sixteen/

[ ](https://ceh3167.files.wordpress.com/2020/12/supernatural-season-3-title-card-e1607172019197.jpg)

### Episode One: “The Premonition”

Dean fell asleep with the lamp on. The solitary lamp cast Dean’s room in a dim warm glow. Room eleven of the bunker, where Dean built his nest, was the first place he had been able to settle down after many years on the road with his younger brother Sam, living in cheap hotel rooms with double beds. Now he had his own space and room for more possessions than he could fit in the trunk of the Impala. On the ledge above his bed, he set out the few family photos he salvaged from his youth, adding to them pictures of his new family: his mom, recently lost to him again, his beloved brother Sam now a grown man, his guardian angel Castiel, and Jack, the child they all adopted into their unconventional lives.

On the walls were mounted Dean’s sawed-off shotguns. Around the room were strewn his cast-off clothes for the day. His jeans, his flannels, and his boots lay on the floor next to his bed where he slipped into an exhausted sleep. At the feet of the sleeping man lay his miracle dog, the newest member of Dean’s family.

Each morning Dean would pull this dog close to him and kiss its head in some silly childlike gesture of delight. For the first time in his life, he actually felt he could be happy. Right now the pup let out an occasional whimper and flicked his ears, shifting his dark eyes back and forth as the sleeping man groaned and fidgeted under his light blanket. Miracle snuggled his sandy brown fur close to the man trying to comfort him during his disturbed sleep.

Dean dreamed. He dreamed of a spike impaled into his back. He dreamed of blood leaking into his internal cavities as he hung from the hook, him pleading for Sam not to leave him as he grew weaker from blood loss. He saw Sam’s face ravaged with tears and grief as Dean confessed how much he loved him, how proud he was of him, how strong Sam was.

Dean knew how much he wanted to stay with Sam; he knew he couldn’t have what he wanted. It was his time to go. He begged for Sam’s permission to leave: “Tell me, tell me it’s okay to go,” and his relief when Sam gave his consent: “You can go now.” Dean trusted Sam would have a good life without him in it. Just stay with him now for these last final moments.

He dreamed he died and had a Hunter’s funeral. He dreamed he went to heaven. Bobby was there. His parents were there, and Castiel too. He only had to wait for Sam to arrive.

Tears rolled down the sleeping man’s face as he gasped and finally awoke. His whole body shook. Miracle suddenly leaped from the bed and hunkered in a corner.

Dean felt a pressure weighing down the side of the bed behind him. He came to attention and rolled over to see a seated figure with long chestnut hair curling down its back. A woman’s face turned toward him and said over her shoulder “Hello Dean. What were you dreaming about?”

“Amara,” Dean gasped. “What are you doing here?”

Dean jumped out of the bed. He wore black boxer briefs and a dark blue T-shirt. He grabbed his robe that was draped over a nearby chair and quickly slid it on.

Amara rose from the bed and faintly smiled at Dean’s modestly as he tied the robe. This time her dress was golden, held up by thin straps. It shimmered with its own light. Her hair draped over her bare shoulders. Her red lips pursed with their own self-satisfaction.

“I brought you something,” she said. The faint smile still played around her lips. She lifted an eyebrow.

“What?” said Dean, looking around the room.

“Your dream.”

“That terrible dream I just had?” His voice had a tone of irritation in it. “Why would you do that? Just to terrorize me? Why would you make me dream about my own death?”

“It’s not just a dream, Dean. It’s a premonition.”

Dean took a deep breath and stepped back. The bed was still between them. He dropped his glance for a moment before looking into Amara’s eyes.

“You mean,” Dean looked away and closed his eyes. “That’s how I’m going to die? On some vampire hunt in some abandoned barn?” Dean nearly shouted, feeling outraged and a sense of injustice. “After everything that me and Sam fought for, that’s my ending?” He felt tears welling up in his eyes. “We fought to be free from Chuck manipulating our lives.”

“Chuck is no longer writing your story,” said Amara. She moved to the foot of the bed to come toward him.

“Oh, so you’ve taken over Chuck’s sick little narrative,” shouted Dean. “I should have known. Beings like you just can’t stop playing with the lives of others.”

“That’s not true,” said Amara. “You won your free will. I will not interfere.”

“Then how do you know my ending?” said Dean. “No one can read Death’s book.”

“I can,” said Amara, “but Chuck could not.”

“How can that be?”

“When my brother caged me, Death came into existence. That’s why I didn’t know Death,” said Amara. “As the Darkness, Death would have been in my domain. When we separated, the universe that came into existence also divided. I became the Darkness, Chaos, the Female. Chuck became the Light, Creation, the Male.”

“And Good and evil?” said Dean.

“Good and evil are moral terms relative to your world. They don’t exist for us, only unity, balance, and harmony, or division, instability, and discord.”

“So why is the world so filled with unhappiness and death and despair?” said Dean.

“That’s how Chuck made it. He made it without balancing it with me. Then, he wanted to destroy the universe and start over. He needed me to cooperate with him. I refused. I got him to promise me balance, but he lied, as usual.”

“Why did you refuse?” said Dean. He calmed himself into a more subdued state. He kept his eyes on Amara as she slowly made her way toward him.

“I wanted to protect this world from him. Maybe because you were in it,” said Amara. “My attraction to you was real. Not some story my brother was writing.”

The two of them stood facing each other near the foot of Dean’s bed. She’s stepped forward, raising her hands to caress his face; to rub her fingertips over the stubble on his cheeks. Dean stepped back to avoid her touch.

“Do you no longer feel our connection?” she said. She brought her hands back to her breasts.

“We never had a connection.”

“We did. You never trust it. We will always have a connection, Dean. You released me. We both bore the same mark,” she said. “But I’m not the one you love.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean’s voice was low, almost a whisper.

“Your angel, Dean, the one who confessed his love to you.”

“He did that to save me. I can’t repay him for his sacrifice.” Dean’s eyes became wet. He looked away from her, not wanting her to see the tears welling up in his eyes.

“You don’t think his confession was real?” Her tone was almost accusatory.

“If it wasn’t real, it wouldn’t have summoned the Empty.” Dean’s voice was low and soft. He looked down at a spot on the floor in front of him. “He sacrificed himself to save me. I didn’t deserve it. He should have let Death take me instead.”

“And his love for you?”

“I don’t deserve it.” Dean shook his head. He let his hands fall to his sides and turned his back to her.

“He offered it to you freely. Do you not feel the same way?”

“He’s my friend. My big dumb friend. It hurts to lose him like that. But what can I do?” A tear finally fell from his eye. Dean was ashamed to let her see it. He quickly wiped it away.

“Would you like him returned to you?” said Amara.

“I would do anything to get him back,” said Dean. He turned to face her.

“There is always a way.” She spoke in a tantalizing voice, raising her eyebrows and turning the corners of her lips down.

“You mean ask Jack to bring him back? He said he wouldn’t interfere.” He could have asked Jack when he had the chance, but something inside of himself told him that he wasn’t deserving. He had kept his silence.

“You don’t need Jack. Not when you have God’s sister.” Her eyelids widened momentarily and she gave him a sharp look.

“You’re not angry at us for trying to kill you also?”

“That was Chuck’s plan all along. He was simply manipulating you and Sam. He wanted us to die together so we would revert back to our origins and he could restart the universe. You finally managed to trick him with the one thing he couldn’t know. His own ending.”

Dean felt relieved. He had harbored guilty feelings once he got past his anger. He was willing to sacrifice her to get at Chuck. God made a fool out of him again, when it finally sunk in that he was pulling another deception.

“How can you get Cas back?” said Dean. “Can you just walk in there and pull him out?”

“I can.”

Dean looked at her incredulously. His mouth fell open, just for a moment, before he closed it after a quick breath.

“I am so much more than what you see,” said Amara. She tilted her head sideways and smiled at Dean. “The Empty is the place of my birth. Chuck and I were born from the Empty. It is our ultimate home and the place of our origin. We were the fullness against the void of the Empty. Any place that Death can go, so can I.”

Dean was silent for several moments reflecting to himself, before he finally said, “What is the point of getting him back if I’m just going to die soon anyway?”

“Your dream was a view of the future,” said Amara. She reached out and placed her hands gently on Dean’s shoulders. He didn’t resist her this time. “But you have free will. Chuck is not writing your story anymore. You can change your future.”

Dean’s face was pale and expressionless. “You mean I don’t have to die like that?”

“No, Dean. Your future is open to be rewritten however you want it.” She’s squeezed his shoulders. “You can even share your future with that angel who loves you.”

Dean’s eyes filled with tears. He let out a sob before he stifled it, and took several long breaths.

“But remember this,” said Amara. “If you change your future, you also change Sam’s.”

Before Dean could respond, Amara vanished.

~~~

Dean couldn’t sleep after Amara’s visit. Miracle dog followed Dean to the galley of the bunker. He got a beer and then settled into a chair in the library with Miracle beside him. He opened his beer and took a long swallow.

Dean looked around at the books in the library and wondered what Sam would do without him. If his end came soon, how long would Sam stay here in the bunker? Dean was sure Sam would move on and stop hunting. He wanted Sam to leave the life. In his dream, Sam didn’t appear to be hunting any longer. Dean felt relieved by that.

Dean reflected for a long time on what Amara had said. He heard Sam moving around in the halls quietly calling for him.

“Dean. Dean, there you are. What are you doing up? I saw you weren’t in your bedroom.”

“I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.” Dean continued to sip at his nearly empty beer.

“What’s wrong?”

Dean looked at his little brother, who was wearing a T-shirt and sleep pants, and noticed just how handsome and grown-up he was, even with his hair disheveled from sleep.

“I had a bad dream,” said Dean.

“About what?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on Dean, don’t keep things from me.” Sam sat down across from him at the table. Between them were the initials they carved in the tabletop. Sam gave Dean pleading puppy dog eyes to get Dean to share his feelings.

“I dreamed about how I was going to die,” said Dean in a voice that was cold and meant to be vicious.

“Come on, Dean. You have had dreams about stuff like that before. Why is it bothering you so much this time?”

“This time it wasn’t just a dream. This time it was a premonition.” Dean almost growled.

[](https://wordpress.us14.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=7102a97ff3d2b56143218cbc8&id=5bcf6dba8b)“How do you know that?” Sam wasn’t going to let Dean shove him away with his grouchy demeanor.

“Amara told me.”

“Amara was here in the bunker?”

“I also dreamed about you.” Dean let his voice soften. “After I died, you lived a long life. You got married. You had a son. You lead a normal happy life with a family. You lived to be an old man, and went to heaven.”

Sam was quiet for several moments, and then he said: “That is a nice dream, but Dean, I don’t want you to die.”

“You don’t understand.” Dean’s voice was almost pleading. “Amara told me, if I change my ending, it also changes yours. I want you to have a long normal life. I’m willing to die for that Sam.”


	2. No Chick-Flick Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean argue about Dean's decision to follow his premonition to his death. 
> 
> I am posting these chapters to both Archive of Our Own and also to my personal web page. You can visit my Supernatural: Season Sixteen page with links to each charter/episode as I post them at
> 
> https://ceh3167.wordpress.com/my-stories/supernatural-season-sixteen/

### 

### Episode Two: “No Chick-Flick Moments”

Dean sat inside in the galley slowly chewing on burnt bacon while rubbing his temples after his long night of drinking. His bottle of whiskey was empty and his buzz was wearing off. Soon a headache would be coming and he could collapse into an exhausted sleep. He crumbled the remaining pieces of bacon and threw the meat on the floor for the dog to eat. He didn’t have the stomach to swallow the scrambled eggs he cooked, so he held out the plate for the dog to lick and gobble down the yellow clumps as well.

“Don’t feed the dog off the plate,” said Sam as he walked into the galley.

Dean looked up at his little brother with wearily bloodshot eyes. Sam was freshly showered and dressed in his flannel to meet the day. “When did we start wearing flannel all the time,” Dean mumbled trying to remember what kind of clothes they wore when they were kids. He remembered a t-shirt that said ‘I lov hugs’ on it and groaned at how those innocent words seemed so far away now.

“Did you even sleep at all last night,” said Sam as he stepped into the galley. He put his hand on his brother’s shoulder and looked into Dean’s bleary eyes. “Did you spend the rest of the night drinking after I went back to bed?”

Dean groaned and rose from the table vaguely pushing his brother’s hand away. The dog retreated under the table. Dean held the now licked clean plate in his hand and then carefully set it into the sink trying not to make too much noise.

He saw Sam had scrunched his eyebrows and raised his lower lip slightly. He was waiting for his brother to say something. “How was I supposed to go back to sleep after that dream?” said Dean.

“Dean, I’ve been thinking about it too, and I think it’s time for us to retire from hunting.” Sam relaxed his face and tried to use his puppy dog eyes.

Dean looked away and glanced around the unadorned galley and wondered why they never decorated it to make it seem more homely. He loved having a kitchen he could finally cook in. This one felt like a man’s domain, utilitarian and efficient. “We can’t just stop,” Dean said over his shoulder. “There are still monsters out there. We still live in the world that Chuck made.” He smoothed down his own flannel shirt. At some point in the night, Dean had managed to get dressed. He wore his own jeans, flannel, and boots.

“We won our freedom right?” said Sam. “There are no more demons chasing after us. There is no more Chuck writing our story anymore. We can stop now.”

“We can’t just walk away,” said Dean.

“Yes, we can.” Sam put his hand back and Dean’s shoulder and turned Dean to face him. Dean wouldn’t meet Sam’s eyes. “There are other hunters out there that can take over for us. We can turn the bunker over to a new generation of hunters.” Sam gently shook Dean’s shoulders. “Dean, look at me.” Sam got Dean to glance up at him. “Claire and Kaia and their gang can take over, we can call them the ‘Wayward Sisters’ or something. Or Charley, or even Garth. Okay, maybe not Garth. Or we could even turn the bunker over to our doubles. I felt kind of bad about the way we abandoned them.”

“You want to turn the Men of Letters bunker over to them?” said Dean. His voice took on a derisive tone.

“They seemed competent. They are us from another universe.” Sam took on an almost pleading manner.

“Really, Sam?” Dean scowled.

Sam twitched his face and shook his head. “Why not?” he said. “I know they’re not us, but they are hunters. And if they are anything like us then they are damn good hunters.”

[ ](https://ceh3167.files.wordpress.com/2021/02/dean-in-hallway-e1614423495283.jpg)

“We can’t retire. Retiring is too risky.” Dean was more emphatic.

Sam hunched his shoulders. “What are you talking about? How can quitting be more risky.”

“My dream, Sam.” Dean bent over and put his hands on the table.

“If I don’t die in a hunt you’ll never live your normal life.” He shook his head back and forth.

“I don’t want a normal life if you’re not in it,” said Sam. He laid his hand on his brother’s back, between his shoulder blades.

“You don’t get a choice in the matter,” yelled Dean. He stood up and this time forcefully pushed Sam’s hand away.

“Then we’ll figure something else out. Like we always do,” said Sam. A line they repeated back and forth to each other for several years.

Dean looked at his brother. He had tears in his eyes. “The only times in the past when you had a normal life was when I was not in it. When you were away at school before I came and dragged you back into this forsaken existence. When I was in purgatory, you stopped hunting. So when I’m dead, you will be alone and quit this life. That’s what I want. I’m the one who ruins your life. If it wasn’t for me, your life would be normal and ordinary like you always wanted.”

Sam’s eyes filled with tears. “When I was away at school, I was so angry at you and Dad. But now I have forgiven you. I want you in my life. When you were trapped in purgatory, I was lost without you.”

“Sam, I can’t stop hunting. It’s in my blood. As long as I’m around, I will always pull you into the mess that is my life. You deserve a chance to be happy. It will never happen as long as you’re with me.” A tear ran down Dean’s face.

Sam grabbed Dean by the shoulders again. This time he held them with a tight grip. “Dean, I won’t ever be happy if you’re not part of my life, normal or not. You have your freewill now. You can change your destiny.” Sam’s voice was insistent. 

“Sam, this is an easy decision for me to make.” Dean grabbed his brother’s forearms. “This time I can do it right. I don’t have to be afraid of hell. In my dream, I went to heaven, so there’s nothing to fear. You will be fine without me.” Dean pulled himself free from his brother’s grip and walked toward the doorway. “I don’t feel conflicted about this. Giving up my life for yours is something I always knew I would do.”

Sam tried to pull him back by his arm.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” said Dean. He turned his back and pushed through the doorway of the galley.

“I don’t want that Dean,” said Sam following behind him. “I don’t want you to leave me. How do I know that my life will be happier without you? I’m not the one who had the dream.”

Dean walked down the corridor towards his bedroom door. Sam ran after him.

“Dean.” Sam grasped his brother from behind, holding Dean to his chest. Dean lowered his head, feeling Sam’s strong arms wrapped around him and his face pressed to Dean’s cheek. “Tell me what you saw and let me decide,” Sam said quietly into Dean’s ear.

“You had a wife, and a son,” Dean said slowly. “You lived in a big house, with Baby in the garage. You were surrounded by family photos, and you played catch with your kid, who you named after me. And you grew old, and had glasses, and wore cardigan sweaters, and had crazy white hair.” Dean chuckled at the last bit.

“Who was my wife?”

“I couldn’t tell her face was blurry.”

“What was my job? Was I teaching my son to hunt? Did I die?”

“I don’t know what your job was,” said Dean. “You were helping your kid do homework. Your life was happy and normal.” Dean didn’t tell Sam he saw the anti-possession tattoo on his son’s arm.

“Is that all?”

“Isn’t that enough? You were married and had a kid. And a home! Something we never had growing up.” Dean pressed his head against his brothers. He could feel Sam’s long soft hair that he always teased him about, but couldn’t imagine him without. They stood there in the corridor and swayed together for a moment.

[ ](https://ceh3167.files.wordpress.com/2021/02/sam_winchester.png)

“That doesn’t mean I was happy,” Sam finally said. “I could have been miserable and faking it.”

“Of course you were happy! I saw you smiling,” said Dean. “You don’t smile much anymore.”

“Dean, I’m not convinced that I would have a happy life without you in it. We have been through so much together. You are the most important person to me.”

“Sam, please don’t make this into a chick-flick moment,” Dean said pulling away from his brother’s embrace.

“Dean, I want you to live. Don’t you want to live? After all, we fought for and you’re going to give up now?”

Dean turned to face his brother. “Of course I want to live, Sam! But I will trade my life for your happy ending.”

“I want you to have a happy ending too. That’s what we have been fighting for. For both of us.” He motioned his hand between the two of them before dropping it to his side.

Dean sighs and gives his brother a pleading look. “Of course, I want to be happy, but I don’t think I can,” Dean says in a near whisper. Tears form again in his eyes. Dean swallows hard. “It’s my responsibility to take care of you.”

“I’m all grown up now, you don’t have to take care of me anymore,” said Sam. “Take care of yourself now.”

Dean turned away from his brother and headed towards his room. The dog that had been following the brothers ran to Dean when he called. “How can I be happy now?” said Dean over his shoulder.

Sam understood what Dean meant. “We will get him back. Amara said she can get into the empty, right?”

“I don’t know if I could face him Sam.” After all that had happened, Dean still had not told Sam what Castiel told him before he was taken to the Empty.

“Why not?”

“He sacrificed himself to save me. Sam, how can I repay that?”

“You’re willing to give up your life for me, but you’re not willing to face him? Dean, that is ridiculous. If we can get him out, he will want to see you again.”

Dean put his hands over his face but said nothing to his brother.

“I know you care a lot about him, Dean,” said Sam. “He’s your best friend, someone who you have relied on a lot over the last several years. I’ve seen how just being with him makes you happy.”

Sam smiled with a smirk on his face. Dean waved his finger at him telling him not to go there.

“I can definitely see the two of you together.” Sam nodded his head up and down while touching his chin.

“Stop it, Sam.”

“I can see you two walking on the beach holding hands and warming yourselves by a bonfire.”

Dean turned away from Sam and traipsed down the hallway toward the garage with a grouchy look on his face.

Sam strode behind him, teasing him with laughter in his voice.

“I can see the two of you going on a picnic after you spend all morning frying chicken and baking pies. It’s so adorable when you get all domestic. Oh, or the two of you hiking in the mountains, exploring the forest, and skinny dipping in the lake, with your own little tent all to yourselves. Or going to the movies and holding hands in the dark. Or you teaching Cas how to dance. He is a bit awkward.”

Sam laughed. Dean marched steadily down the long hall trying to ditch his little brother. Their boots thudded on the tile floor.

“How about the two of you snuggled up in the Dean cave smooching on the sofa, with Cas laughing at your bad jokes, while the two of you play with bunny rabbits.”

“Bunnies?” growled Dean. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Sam threw his head back and burst into laughter.

“Or the two of you living on a farm and planting a garden full of flowers and vegetables with lots of watermelons and cantaloupes.”

“No Sam, I think that’s your fantasy,” Dean yelled back to Sam down the corridor. 

“You loved watermelon when we were kids.”

[ ](https://ceh3167.files.wordpress.com/2021/02/sam-and-dean-the_trap.jpg)

“Yeah, well I’m a meat man now.”

“And Castiel will be quite surprised to find that out.” Sam covered his mouth and giggled.

“What so funny?”

“You still don’t know what that means.”

“Well, then what does it mean?”

“It means you have a large penis.”

“Of course I do! And the ladies love it.”

“I’m sure Cas will too,” said Sam.

“Cas isn’t like that,” Dean shouted.

“Whoa, I was kidding Dean. Don’t get all defensive.”

Dean stopped at the entrance to the garage and took several deep breaths trying to calm himself. Sam came and stood next to him.

“Dean, what I’m trying to say is that I know Cas is important to you, and if we can get him back, maybe you’ll give up this foolish idea of sacrificing yourself for me.”

“I owe it to Cas to try and get him back, but we’re not doing any of your nonsense.” Dean pointed a finger into Sam’s face.

“We will find a way,” said Sam.

“You can have your chick-flick moments with Eileen and your kid.”

“Do you know she was Eileen? You said you couldn’t see her.”

“I just assume she was,” said Dean.

“Dean, I don’t want some chick-flick life.”

“Come on Sam, let me succeed at something.” Dean struck the door to the garage with his fist.

“Why can’t you recognize all the success that you’ve had?” said Sam. “Rescue Cas and be happy with him. I know he loves you and I know deep down you love him too.”

“Did he tell you that?” Dean rested his hands on the door, holding his eyelids shut, afraid that Cas might have told Sam his feeling before disclosing them to Dean.

“No, but I can see it in his eyes. In the way he looks at you.”

“You know I’m not like that,” said Dean. “You know I like the ladies.”

“I’m not saying you have to be that kind of couple,” said Sam. “But if you did I would never judge you for it. You know that. I want you to be happy. No matter what.”

They were standing at the entrance to the garage. The Impala was just on the other side of the door.

“I’m going to go sit in my Baby. She won’t judge me or pressure me into anything. Right now I just need to think.”

Dean pulled the handle that opened the heavy door and ascended a short flight of steps. There sat his Baby. She was beautiful. Sam left him to himself and didn’t follow.

Other than his brother, and maybe Cas, Dean loved this car more than anything else. He opened her door and slid into the front seat. “Hello Baby,” he said, as he caressed her steering wheel. “So what do you think about all this?” He asked her.


End file.
